Podcasts

BOA Podcast 37: Lesley Downer, The Shortest History of Japan

Our guest today is author Lesley Downer an expert on Japanese culture and history. She writes both fiction and non-fiction. Her novels transport readers to the intriguing world of 19th-century Japan, while her non-fiction takes us along on the Narrow Road to the Deep North with poet Matsuo Basho; behind the scenes of the Geisha community; and into the intrigues of the richest family in Japan. Oh, and she also writes fiction! Today, she discusses her just-released The Shortest History of Japan: From Mythical Origins to Pop Culture Powerhouse, which provides a concise yet detailed account of Japanese history.

Show Notes:

Downer highlights the significance of historical figures like Himiko, the shaman queen who unified Yamatai, and Empresses Suiko and Koken, who ruled Japan in their own right. She also touches on the feminist movement in Japan, particularly the contributions of Hiratsuka Raicho and Akiko Yosano. Lastly, she shares insights into her writing career, including her transition from nonfiction to fiction and her research on geisha.

Lesley mentions Yosano Akiko’s poem “Until Death Do Us Part” (“Shini tanoma”) which Akiko wrote before her brother went off to war:

Until Death Do Us Part
by Yosano Akiko

Though my body dies,
My soul will remain with you.
Until the end of time,
Let us pledge to be together,
Until death do us part.

(translation: ChatGPT 4o)

Downer’s three favorite books on Japan:

1. Japan Journal, 1855-1861 by Henry Heusken, which covers the author’s experiences during his time as the secretary and interpreter for Townsend Harris, the first U.S. Consul General to Japan.

2. As We Saw Them: The First Japanese Embassy to the United States by Masao Miyoshi, about the first Japanese diplomats who visited the United States in 1860.

3. Taiko by Yoshikawa Eiji, a historical novel that tells the story of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, one of Japan’s greatest warlords and unifiers during the Sengoku period.

You can visit Lesley Downer at the following links:

The Books on Asia podcast is produced and edited by Amy Chavez and Michael Palmer, and is sponsored by Stone Bridge Press, publisher of fine books on Asia for over 30 years. Amy Chavez is author of Amy’s Guide to Best Behavior in Japan and The Widow, the Priest, and the Octopus Hunter: Discovering a Lost Way of Life on a Secluded Japanese Island.

Subscribe to the Books on Asia podcast.

Review—Mornings With My Cat Mii

book cover
(Photo: Nicky Harman)

by Mayumi Inaba (Transl. Ginny Tapley Takemori)
Harvill Secker (October 3, 2024)

Review by Nicky Harman

Mayumi Inaba (稲葉 真弓, 1950-2014) was a Japanese writer and poet whom I confess I had never heard of. I am glad I didn’t let that stop me reading Mornings with My Cat Mii. Published in Japanese in 1999 and now translated into English by Ginny Tapley Takemori, it had me gripped.

Inaba finds Mii as an abandoned new-born. She and her husband adopt the kitten, give her a name (onomatopoeic) and watch as Mii grows and explores their garden and its plants, their smells and colours and the neighbourhood noises. Inaba does not seem to be an experienced cat-owner at this point: Mii is impregnated by a stray tom and nearly dies because she is still only a half-grown kitten, too small to give birth. However, she survives and thrives:

“Mii was by now settled in the house and familiar with the woods. She enjoyed playing with the stray cats and came in and out as she pleased. Just hearing the wails of the cats in the grounds of the shrine or the sound of them crawling through the hole in the lean-to by the bathroom and running about the house was enough to bring a smile to my lips. The physiology and instincts of these lively, young and supple, utterly uninhibited creatures enriched my nights. Mii was as cowardly as ever among the Kokubunji cats that did as they pleased, but still she went outside. And she would quietly leave the house as though gauging that it was time for me to work.”

Inaba separates from her husband and, after some considerable difficulty, she and Mii move into a flat. (Who knew that most city flats and houses in Japan refuse to accept pets?) Mii gets used to high-rise apartment living though she has no sense of which flat is hers, and in one distressing episode gets lost and ends up at a neighbour’s for the night – a neighbour who then becomes a close friend to Inaba.

Through difficult times (Inaba also gets sacked from her job), a constant in her life is Mii. Inaba says many other things about her relationship with Mii, and it seems invidious to select one short quote, but I was particularly struck by this description:

“Since my husband had left, Mii and I had become closer than ever. Our intimacy was spun without words and in time formed into an unbreakable bond. We slept in the same bed, entrusting our bodies to each other, snuggling together, and in the morning the first thing we saw was each other.”

And (this from the wordsmith and a poet):

“Maybe the fact that we couldn’t communicate in words cushioned us and kept things calm between us.
”

Inevitably, years of decline follow as Mii ages, suffers various ailments, and eventually dies. Much of this part of the book is taken up with getting food into her and getting the waste products out by massaging Mii’s belly, all described in unsparing detail. Inaba cares for her so devotedly that after the vet has more or less given up, Inaba succeeds in keeping her alive and content to the great age of more than twenty.

Mornings With My Cat Mii is engrossing because it is also about Inaba’s own life, her friendships, the failure of her marriage and subsequent loneliness, her dedication to becoming a writer and her feelings about the physical environment she and Mii share. I reflected, as I read, on the different ways people write about their relationships with animals and reveal themselves as they do so. Gavin Maxwell and his relationship with the otters in Ring of Bright Water came to mind. There is the same acceptance of the loved animal as ‘other’. Mii to Inaba is always a cat, not a human, but that does not in any way diminish the depth of Inaba’s feelings for her cat (or Maxwell’s for his otters).

I was also reminded of a Chinese novella, The Tabby-cat’s Tale by Han Dong, which I translated myself (Bridge21 Publications, 2025). In both stories, the cat is a sort of nexus in the narrator’s web of human relationships. The down-to-earth descriptions of appalling fleas, body processes and the infirmities of (feline) old age are also common to both authors. Are we in the west more squeamish? Perhaps. The difference between Mornings With My Cat Mii and The Tabby-cat’s Tale is in the raw emotions, or lack of them, of the author. Han Dong’s take on the tabby-cat in question is respectful but detached, while Inaba’s attachment, and her grief when Mii dies, are unmistakable.

Finally, I found Ginny Tapley Takemori’s translation pleasing and convincing. As a translator myself, I have a particular comment to make, on a point that interests me very much: the way Tapley Takemori keeps Japanese words in the text, without explanation or italics, and mostly without glosses. For instance, in one line, she describes a room as having tatami and a tokonoma. Most non-Japanese speakers would know that tatami is a kind of mat, but a tokonoma? There are two schools of thought about how to deal with words that are specific to the source language and culture: on the one hand, translators can explain or substitute a ‘domesticated’ version; on the other they can leave the words exactly as they are, in the hopes that the reader will do their own research. Tapley Takemori here has opted for the latter, the make-the-reader-work approach. I was intrigued because this is a decision I have to make, for or against, with almost everything I translate from Chinese. Furthermore, leaving foreign words in a translated text is a road less travelled by translators.

However, nowadays it is very easy to track down a word by searching online and so, in a matter of seconds, I found that a tokonoma is ‘a recessed space in a Japanese-style reception room, in which items for artistic appreciation are displayed. In English, a tokonoma could be called an alcove.’ (Thank you, Wikipedia). I am convinced! An alcove, alone, just doesn’t do it. A tokonoma does, and I’ve learnt a new word.

Mornings With My Cat Mii is beautiful (irrespective of one’s feelings towards cats) because Inaba is writing about love, the sort of love one could equally have for a human companion, about her pleasure in Mii’s company and ultimately, about grief. I read it in one sitting, and will likely go back and read it again. I thoroughly recommend it.

 

Podcasts

BOA Podcast 35—The Healing Power of Poet Ōtagaki Rengetsu

In this episode of the Books on Asia podcast, host Amy Chavez talks to author John Stevens about his latest book The Lotus Moon: Art and Poetry of Buddhist Nun Otagaki Rengetsu (Floating World Editions, Aug. 2023).

Book’s Features:

The most comprehensive English-language presentation of the work of famed nun and artist Ōtagaki Rengetsu (1791-1875)

• Presents 90 of Rengetsu’s painting and pottery works in over 242 full-color photos

• Written by Professor John Stevens, the foremost Western authority on Rengetsu

• Includes Japanese kana, romanization, and English translations, with commentary for all entries

• Provides an intimate portrait of the life and work of one of the most remarkable women in Japanese culture

• Offers insights into significant thematic and cultural concerns of 19th-century Japanese art

 

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Ep 35 transcript:

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Podcasts

BOA Podcast 34—Angus Waycott Walks Sado Island


Author and travel-writer Angus Waycott talks about his book Sado: Island of Exile based on his 8-day walk around the island off Niigata Prefecture in the Japan Sea. He gives us in-depth accounts of: a mujina (tanuki-worshipping) cult, funa-ema (literally “ship horse pictures”), exile (including those of Zeami and Buddhist priest Nichiren), and the controversy behind the Kinzan gold mine and its “slave labor,” all topics which he recorded in his book Sado: Japan’s Isand of Exile originally published by Stone Bridge Press in 1996, and re-issued as an e-book by the author 2012, and 2023.

Book Description: “Given the choice, no-one ever went to Sado. For more than a thousand years, this island in the Sea of Japan was a place of exile for the deposed, disgraced or just plain distrusted — ex-emperors, aristocrats, poets, priests and convicted criminals alike. This book rediscovers the exiles’ island, explores the truth about its notorious gold mine, tracks down a vanishing badger cult, and drops in on the home of super-drummer band Kodo. Along the way, it paints a vivid picture of one of Japan’s most intriguing backwaters, now emerging from a long exile of its own.”

 

Show Notes:

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Podcasts

BOA Podcast 33—Ai and the Future of Books


Publisher Peter Goodman and author/translator Frederik Schodt talk about artificial intelligence as it relates to writing and publishing books.

Schodt’s book Astroboy Essays: Osamu Tezuka, Mighty Atom, and the Manga/Anime Revolution was recently listed as one of the books used to train generative AI. Peter Goodman is publisher of Stone Bridge Press (our podcast sponsor), and released Schodt’s Astroboy Essays in 2007. Both of these guests are going to give us their views on AI, the use of published books to train artificial intelligence, the issues of copyright, fair use and plagiarism, and what the AI industry should be doing to move forward and make the advancements beneficial for everyone involved.

If you’re an author and would like to find out if your book was one of 183,000 used to train AI, see this article in The Atlantic:

Link to The Atlantic
The search engine The Atlantic devised to use to see if particular titles were used to train generative AI.

Frederick Schodt is author/translator of  The Osamu Tezuka Story (Stone Bridge Press, 2016), Manga, Manga!: The World of Japanese Comics (Kodansha, 2013) The Astro Boy Essays (Stone Bridge Press, 2007) and My Heart Sutra: The World in 260 Characters (Stone Bridge Press, 2020, read our review), Professor Risley and the Imperial Japanese Troupe: How an American Acrobat Introduced Circus to Japan and Japan to the West (Stone Bridge Press, 2012) and Native American in the Land of the Shogun: Ranald MacDonald and the Opening of Japan (Stone Bridge Press, 2013).

(Note: Since this podcast recording, Frederik Schodt has been inducted into the Manga Publishing Hall of Fame)

You can find Schodt on his Website, on Twitter(X) @fschodt and on Facebook

You can listen to our podcast with Schodt, where he talks about Professor Risley and the Imperial Japanese Troupe and Native American in the Land of the Shogun, at BOA Podcast 32: Frederik Schodt and Historical Non-Fiction on Japan.

The Books on Asia Podcast is sponsored by Stone Bridge Press. Check out their books on Japan at the publisher’s website.

Amy Chavez, podcast host, is author of Amy’s Guide to Best Behavior in Japan (Stone Bridge Press, 2018) and The Widow, the Priest, and the Octopus Hunter: Discovering a Lost Way of Life on a Secluded Japanese Island (Tuttle Publishing, 2022)

Don’t miss another author interview! Subscribe to the Books on Asia podcast.

Review—Mami Suzuki: Private Eye

book coverReview by Tina deBellegarde

With Mami Suzuki: Private Eye, Simon Rowe delivers a delightful twist on the traditional private investigator (PI) novel. This charming new sleuth is a middle-aged single mother from Kobe who sleuths in her off-hours to help cover the household expenses for herself, her mother and her young daughter.  Suzuki is no Miss Marple. Fashionable but frugal, professional and low-key, she struggles to make ends meet, and often turns to a beer or a whiskey to ease her burden.

Rowe’s book is an attractive blend of the modern and the classic, much like Japan itself. He takes us on a tour from bustling Kobe to the languid islands of Ishigaki in southernmost Okinawa, and even to a “cat island” in the Seto Inland Sea.

The novel unfolds as four separate cases and stand-alone stories with several threads that connect the narratives. For instance, Teizo, a handsome fisherman and former submariner, plays Watson to Suzuki’s Sherlock. Each new client is recommended by the last, and sometimes, there is significant overlapping.

We begin in the port city of Kobe, where Suzuki lives. Here, Rowe shows us both sides of the tracks—the luxury of the pearl district, as well as the pubs and karaoke bars. You may recognize this part of the book from the author’s earlier collection Pearl City: Stories from Japan and Elsewhere where Suzuki is hired by a pearl dealer to suss out a thief.

The chapter “Land of the Gods” contrasts with the hustle and bustle of urban Kobe when Suzuki goes to Shimane Prefecture on Japan’s western seaboard to find a missing sushi chef. The sleuth must discover whether the chef left of his own accord or if something more nefarious occurred.

The episode “Sounds of the Tide” takes place on the idyllic island of Ishigaki where Suzuki investigates a drowning. The victim’s sister suspects the wife and her family had a hand in it. “Sounds of the Tide” becomes particularly compelling when Suzuki develops a friendship with the widow and is unsure if the relationship has clouded her judgement.

Rowe continually presents us with new angles to age-old stories. The final story, “Isle of Cats” features a pregnant college student and a runaway novice priest. The latter finally leads Suzuki to a near-deserted cat island before the twist ending is revealed.

Many PI novels are black and white, good versus bad, but Suzuki executes a more nuanced approach. She works on instinct:

“…intuition guiding her, not knowing exactly what would transpire or what awaited around the next corner but resolute in her belief that if you fell down seven times, you got up eight. There was never any certainty with cases like these, only hunches based on loose facts which, when arranged, pointed in a general direction. ( p.186)

These are not fast-paced action plots, but rather slow-burning character studies. The mysteries originate with people and real-life problems. They conclude quietly, as do many Japanese narratives, with the characters adjusting to the new normal. The prose is crisp and atmospheric. Rowe manages to imbue his stories with details and local color without obscuring the writing. Each case takes us to a different seaside locale and leaves us with the whiff of a salty breeze.

Mami Suzuki captured my heart when I first met her in the author’s Pearl City collection. I had hoped to see more of her, and Simon Rowe has delivered in spades. To my delight, the book left me with a satisfying ending and the promise of a sequel. What more could I want?

Podcasts

BOA Podcast 32: Frederik Schodt—historical non-fiction on Japan

Frederick Schodt is an author and translator with many books under his belt including The Osamu Tezuka Story (Stone Bridge Press, 2016), Manga, Manga!: The World of Japanese Comics (Kodansha, 2013) The Astro Boy Essays (Stone Bridge Press, 2007) and My Heart Sutra: The World in 260 Characters (Stone Bridge Press, 2020, read our review).

But today he is going to talk about his historical non-fiction books, both published by Stone Bridge Press (sponsor of the Books on Asia podcast). First, we’ll talk about Professor Risley and the Imperial Japanese Troupe: How an American Acrobat Introduced Circus to Japan and Japan to the West (Stone Bridge Press, 2012) and Native American in the Land of the Shogun: Ranald MacDonald and the Opening of Japan (Stone Bridge Press, 2013). Both books are accounts of American men who pioneered US-Japan relations.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Show Notes:

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Review—The Nature of Kyoto

Review by John Rucynski

book coverThe Nature of Kyoto is the fifth anthology from Writers in Kyoto (WiK), a “group of published and self-published English-language authors working or living in the city.” Anthologies always run the risk of focusing on too narrow a theme, attracting a certain number of readers, but giving pause to many others who wonder whether the volume will sustain their interest. Fortunately, the editors of this anthology approached the project with a broad definition of nature, noting they “wanted contributors to investigate the myriad aspects of Kyoto’s ‘nature’–referring to both the natural world and the ‘inner nature’ or soul of the city.” So, there is plenty to offer a nature-lover like this reviewer,  and also readers with an interest in any aspect of Kyoto, or Japan.

In the foreword, Pico Iyer writes that, “The minute you step into Japan’s thousand-year capital, it’s hard not to start putting things into words.” Proving this point, The Nature of Kyoto features contributions from 30 writers who have been inspired by Kyoto in one way or another. This anthology also features a wide range of writing genres and styles, from poems and short vignettes of a few hundred words to extended pieces of up to seven or eight pages. This format allows space for 30 engaging contributions that offer an impressive variety of perspectives of the ancient capital.

Iyer also writes of the clash between the traditional and the modern in Kyoto, summarizing this dichotomy by explaining that the city is “madly in love with the latest and fashionable,” yet “everywhere…are spirits alive in the hills.” In “The Graveyard of Homyo-in,” Everett Kennedy Brown writes of these spirits as he senses being watched by something “neither a human, nor an animal” while walking up the path to visit the grave of Ernest Fenollosa (1853-1908), the American art historian dedicated to preserving traditional Japanese art.

The passage of time is also explored in Rebecca Otowa’s short fictional piece “The Pocket Garden.” This poignant tale paints an endearing portrait of the 95-year-old Ei-chan and his love for the nakaniwa (“inner garden,” or as the author dubs it, “pocket garden”) in the small wooden Kyoto house where he has spent all of his years. Sadly, the tranquility of the traditional neighborhood is in peril due to development plans for a high-rise hotel.

Kyoto’s past versus present is also a dominant theme of “For Love of the Octopus God” by Elaine Lies. Fellow long-term residents of Japan will surely relate to this piece, as the author reflects on an old school izakaya (casual eating and drinking establishment) she fell in love with during her student years in Kyoto. Upon visiting the izakaya four decades later, the author laments that, “There will come an end someday that is unfathomable.” It is no surprise that the Buddhist concept of impermanence flows through this volume and Lies vows that she will continue to visit the izakaya while she can, stressing that, “I will laugh. I will live.”

The anthology is not simply a love letter to the nature of Kyoto, but also a reminder of the risks that abound in the great outdoors. Hiking enthusiast Edward J. Taylor addresses this theme in “Peeks of Danger,” summarizing his harrowing journey up and down Minagoyama, at 971 meters the tallest peak in Kyoto Prefecture. Despite its stature as one of the Kansai and Kinki hyakumeizan (“100 Eminent Peaks”), the trail has become difficult to access due to frequent storms of recent years. But you don’t even have to wander into the wilderness to encounter the threats of the natural world in modern Kyoto. In the frightening but equally entertaining “Nature is Trying to Kill You,” Fernando Torres highlights recent clashes between humans and wildlife in his neighborhood in Kyoto, beginning with accounts of wild boars who entered an eldercare facility, university grounds, and even the lobby of a hotel.

In a volume dedicated to the nature of Kyoto, it is no surprise that several chapters also focus on how the abundance of nature has contributed to the city’s vibrant food culture. In “Food for Thought and for the Thoughtful,” Julian Holmes details how more than 40 types of vegetables are certified as kyo-yasai, Kyoto vegetables. Combined with the importance of the seasons within Japanese cuisine as a whole, Holmes expresses that in Kyoto, “It is no exaggeration to say that you can literally tell the time of the year by the vegetables served in front of you.” Karen Lee Tawarayama also emphasizes the vital link between food and the seasons in her contribution, “Nature, Neighbors, and Nibbles.” A nostalgic look at life in her now permanent home of Kyoto, the author recounts how the highlight of a previous private lesson she taught was that it was always accompanied by the serving of sweets, as her student “was simply a connoisseur of traditional confectioneries.” Looking back, she aptly sums up, “The Japanese mindset connects deeply with seasonal flow, and it is delightful to confirm this connection through snacks and confectioneries shared with friends and loved ones.”

Returning to Pico Iyer’s assertion that there are “spirits alive in the hills,” a volume on Kyoto would not be complete without a focus on the city’s ascetic and spiritual traditions. “Kyoto: City of Fire and Water” by Jann Williams is a fascinating look at the role of these opposing elements in a range of traditional events and purification rituals. Williams details how in addition to important “firsts” of the New Year in Japanese culture, such as hatsumōde (first temple or shrine visit), there are also words dedicated to firsts involving fire and water, including hatsukamado (first kindling of the stove) and wakamizu (first water drawn from a well). In his contribution “Thinking Kyoto like a Mountain,” co-editor Robert Weis explores the mountains of Kyoto, but–to return to the opening “A Word from the Editors”–from the perspective of “both the natural world and the ‘inner nature’ or soul of the city.” The title of this piece is borrowed from the phrase “thinking like a mountain,” coined by American author and ecologist Aldo Leopold. Weis sums this philosophy up as “having a holistic appreciation of the interconnectedness of ecosystems, rather than thinking as an isolated individual.”

To expand on this idea of interconnectedness, an appealing feature of anthologies is discovering common themes that crop up despite a great range of backgrounds, nationalities, and writing styles among contributors. What really resonated when I finished this volume was the concept of Kyoto as home.  In “Kyotoyama,” Preston Keido Houser theorizes that all visitors to Kyoto are “‘born’ here, since the city appears to qualify as a spiritual point of departure.” Indeed, in the aforementioned contribution by Elaine Lies, she recounts upon sitting down and being served a beer at her beloved izakaya after a long absence: “I drink deeply. I sigh. I am home.” Similarly, Everett Kennedy Brown reveals in his visits to the garden at Homyo-in that, “There was an inner clarity here that I had rarely experienced in my previous life.” Considering the current (but not new) threat of overtourism to Japan’s ancient capital, it is a reminder that beyond the horribly crowded major sites and consequently jam-packed public transportation, there is still a magical city of hidden gems and tranquility that Japanese and expats alike can call home.

One additional bonus of this volume that must be mentioned is the photography. It is artistically and sparsely arranged, each contribution generally accompanied by a single high-quality photograph that provides a sneak peek into the ensuing work.

Whether you live in Kyoto, are a casual visitor, or just dream of seeing the city someday, The Nature of Kyoto has much to hold your interest, with its 30 varied and fascinating portraits of Japan’s ancient capital. In addition to the range of writing styles featured in these pages, the editors also explain that the volume also caters to different reading styles, from those who like to “dip in and dip out” to those who prefer to “read from cover to cover in one sitting.” However you approach it, the latest offering from WiK is an enjoyable journey guaranteed to increase your knowledge of both Kyoto and Japanese culture in general.

 

Podcasts

BOA Podcast 31: John Grant Ross on Taiwan & Japan


John Ross, a New Zealand writer based in Taiwan, has spent three decades in Asia, starting as a freelance photojournalist then becoming an English teacher and author. His works include Formosan Odyssey: Taiwan, Past and Present, You Don’t Know China: Twenty-Two Enduring Myths Debunked, and Taiwan in 100 Books. He co-founded a publishing house focused on East Asia called Camphor Press and co-hosts Formosa Files, a weekly podcast on the history of Taiwan.

Show Notes:

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